Please Don't Tell: A Dramione Fanfic
by Braynestorm
Summary: I don't know exactly what to say here because I suck at descriptions. Please read and review cause that would be dang cool of you.


Hermione sighed. Krum had asked her to the ball earlier, while she was in the library. She _had _been wondering why such an unintellectual being had been spending so much time there. She even said yes to him. After all, every girl was after him. Lucky her, to be such a famous wizard's date. Ron had asked her too, later on. She was quite annoyed at him for that. Maybe if he was a champion and actually _needed _a partner she'd be willing to go with him as friends, but _honestly!_ He acted as though a date was an object, an item he needed to obtain in order to look good in front of the other Gryffindors. The boy she really wanted to go with... She shook her head. He would never, ever, _ever_ even _think_ to ask her_. As if!_ He'd hated her since the second he set eyes on her. Even called her a mudblood in second year! He was cruel and cold. She shouldn't feel attracted to him. But somehow, she did. Perhaps that was the reason it stung so much whenever he insulted her or looked down his nose at her as though she wasn't even worth his time. Hermione sighed. It was just a childish crush. But something about him gave her the impression that he didn't enjoy being the way he was.

* * *

><p>Draco paced back and forth in the Slytherin common room. He was going to ask her. No, of course he wasn't. What a ridiculous idea. How stupid could a person get? No. She was a Gryffindor. She was Muggle-born. She was an insufferable know-it-all. And she obviously hated him fiercely. And besides, everyone in Slytherin respected him. Even the seventh years smiled nervously whenever he walked past. He didn't dare lose that respect. Draco Malfoy had a reputation to uphold. Slytherins did <em>not<em> have crushes on Muggle-borns. There was probably some unspoken law about things like that. And yet... He wanted so badly to ask her. Pansy walked in just as he had almost convinced himself to do it. Of course he wouldn't do it. He would go with Pansy, as was expected.

"Will you go to the ball with me?" He heard himself mutter. He wished it was Hermione standing in front of him. Of course, Pansy said yes. No going back now.

* * *

><p>Hermione was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous. Draco thought his heart was going to burst and betray his true feelings. Seeing her on the arm of Victor Krum nearly pained him; although at the same time he was happy. Happy for her because she looked happy. He wished he had had the nerve to ask her. She looked so beautiful. But he knew that he would always have to admire from afar. No Slytherin prince could ever be with a Muggle-born, no matter how smart, how beautiful, how... Draco shook his head. Daydreaming about pretty girls was for the lower class, he told himself. Hermione wouldn't have him anyway. Not after all he'd said and done to her. He was an idiot.<p>

* * *

><p>After the ball, Hermione stormed out of the portrait hole. Ron was being a complete imbecile! She couldn't believe his pigheaded behaviour. He ruined the whole night for her. Victor had been pleasant enough company, once one got past his gruff, slouchy demeanor. But Ronald Weasley... Well, that was a completely different story. She took a walk in the castle to clear her head. The ball was still going on downstairs, so she figured that no one would mind her roaming the castle after dark on this particular night. She wished she could see Draco. He would probably just make some rude comment degrading her blood status or mock her isolation; but still, seeing him might calm her nerves. There was just something about his presence that make her feel... better, somehow.<p>

* * *

><p>Draco left the ball early. The night had gone well enough, he decided. He had done all that was expected of him. Danced with Pansy... made small talk with other pure-bloods... sipped pumpkin juice from silver goblets... Perfectly acceptable behaviour. But something felt wrong. He wanted to talk to Hermione. He wished he could have areal conversation with her, apologize for his awfulness. He wished he wasn't such a prat. He wished he wasn't a Slytherin. He wished he wasn't a Malfoy. Maybe then he'd have a chance.<p>

* * *

><p>Her head in the clouds, Hermione wandered the corridors for what must have been at least an hour or so. Suddenly, she spotted a figure coming down the staircase. Her heart skipped. What if it was a prefect, coming to take points from Gryffindor? She didn't think she'd done anything wrong... On closer observation, she noticed that whoever it was seemed to be lost in thought completely. Maybe even... miserable? She looked closer. White hair... pointed features... Draco? Her heart caught in her throat. She nervously decided to speak to him.<p>

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" She asked. Excellent. Keep it simple.

"Just walking. You have a problem with that?" He snapped. Then he looked up at her. "Granger!" He blushed. Why was he blushing? Hermione felt very distressed. What to say next?

* * *

><p>Draco couldn't believe it. He had been thinking about her, desperately wishing that he could see her; and now here she was, and he'd been rude to her. She must think him a complete jerk.<p>

"Did you enjoy the ball?" She finally said.

"Yes, it was fine." He wanted to tell her how he felt, but that would be ridiculous. He thought back to the time last year when she punched him in the face. He'd deserved it too. He was such a little git.

"Might I ask why you're wandering the castle at night?" he inquired.

"I might say the same to you." She retorted. He winced. He was _not_ about to tell her that he had been thinking about her As if.

"As if that's any of your business, mudblood." Argh. That was harsh. He saw her face go red and mentally kicked himself for being so rude. It wasn't as though anyone else was watching. But she might go and tell Potter and Weasley if he was nice to her, and that would give away _everything._

a long...long...long... _dreadfully awkward_ silence. Draco started to walk away, convinced that Hermione wanted nothing to do with his stupid face. She put her hand on his arm as he turned. He flinched at her touch. It made him feel uncomfortable in a way he'd never felt before.

"Wait... um..." She blushed fiercely.

"What?" He replied, his heart in his throat."

"Merry Christmas, Malfoy." She smiled tentatively. He smiled back, forgetting himself.

"And to you as well, Granger."


End file.
